


Sky So Blue

by friedhotsauce



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending to The Avengers, Alternate Universe - Loki Wins, Character Death, Feels, Gen, I added in Spider-Man, Sad shit going down, song-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedhotsauce/pseuds/friedhotsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of oneshots under 900 words based on 'what if Loki had won the Battle of New York'. Each chapter chronicles an Avenger's life after the epic loss. Heavily influenced by Linkin Park's song 'Hands Held High' (each chapter has an excerpt of the lyrics). I suggest you listen to the song before or during reading to have full understanding of the story's concept (and to maximize the feels).</p><p>Part 1= Chapters 1-9<br/>Part 2= Chapter 10-16.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hulk, Part I

_Turn my mic up louder I got to say something_   
_Light weights step to the side when we come in_   
  
_Feel it in your chest the syllables get pumping_   
_People on the street they panic and start running_

 

                Bruce Banner stared wistfully out of his apartment window. It was snowing, again. But that didn’t seem to matter to the crowd of children playing jovially with each other outside. It was strange weather for late May, very strange. Almost a complete month had passed since the ‘Battle of New York’ and Loki had settled nicely into his self-proclaimed title of supreme ruler of the, now isolated state. Since then, the atmosphere had become tense, cold, and uncomfortable. Outside forces had nothing against this dictator, so the population had no choice but to get as comfortable as possible with life constantly under watch.

Bruce turned his smiling gaze from the cheering sight to the obvious security camera, installed on a high corner of the living room wall. Its joints creaked and groaned as the lens turned suspiciously to and fro, until it settled on him for a long while. Taking it as a signal, the man rose from his window-seat and stepped into the kitchen. He retrieved a blue bottle that held thick capsules, from a drawer and returned to face the camera. Shaking the container as if proving himself, Bruce opened the cap and tossed a few pills into his mouth then swallowed hard. In response, the machine lowered its gaze. Sighing, the man steadied his spinning head against the wall. He was frustrated, upset, and increasingly lonely, but he wasn’t angry. In fact, he hadn’t been angry in quite a while.


	2. Captain America, Part I

_Words on loose leaf sheet complete coming_  
I jump in my mind and summon the rhyme, I'm dumping  
  
Healing the blind I promise to let the sun in  
Sick of the dark ways we march to the drumming

 

                “Next!” A lady behind the counter called out. With his neck bent downward, Steve Rogers slid the plastic tray across the sticky surface and tried to bury himself further into the oversized, yet torn winter coat. But it failed from keeping the grey-haired woman from recognizing the once celebrated Captain America. She stared at his grimy, bearded face with betrayal gracing hers’. She absent mindedly spooned a large helping of brown stew on to his dish. He quietly thanked her and shuffled to an empty table within the crowded shelter. It had been two months since Loki took over New York. Steve’s career of heroism had been rewritten as a serious offense since then. With nowhere else to apply his skills, the once confident man was trapped at rock bottom. The Captain roamed the streets and alleys, largely relying on the generosity of others. But that in itself was rare, as people barely had enough for themselves anymore.

About to dig into his meal, Steve suddenly felt a soft and sour-smelling, slap on the side of his face. He searched for the source, who happened to be an elderly fellow from the other side of the room. He snarled and armed himself with more rotting tomatoes.

“You were supposed to stop shit like this from happening.” And he threw one more harsh hit before security personnel took a hold of him. Steve slid the organic debris off of his cheek and left the building. A trail of grossly sympathetic eyes stalked him to the door.

“Poor thing.” The woman behind the counter whispered to the other volunteers. “He used to be really something.”


	3. Iron Man, Part I

_Jump when they tell us that they wanna see jumping_   
_Fuck that I wanna see some fists pumping_   
  
_Risk something, take back what's yours_   
_Say something that you know they might attack you for_   
  
_Cause I'm sick of being treated like I had before_   
_Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for_

 

                “Pepper, Pepper.” Tony stark consoled the violently coughing woman. He led her to a chair at the kitchen table and rubbed her back, as if it might actually make a difference this time. He turned the stove top off and inspected the pot that rested upon it. Inside, there was a captivating sight of red and gold liquid swirled symmetrically together.

“Is it done?” The frail woman asked between coughs.

“Yeah.”  
It had been three months since Loki took over New York. The constant cold that resided in the area made day-to-day living a little more difficult to get through; especially when alien ailments of all levels of severities had soon presented themselves to the citizens. Pepper Potts was struck with a really bad throat virus. It was the type that sent her to the always packed hospital constantly. The type that lead her to have to sleep with a breathing apparatus during the nights she managed to doze off. The type that required Pepper to take a very uncommon medication and its rarity caused the price to sky-rocket to a number Tony could no longer afford. The couple worked feverishly in labour intensive jobs and their pay-checks barely bought a suitable amount of grocery in the first place. These desperate times called for desperate measures. Iron Man sacrificed his prized metal suits whose precious melted substances granted the couple just enough cash for the orange syrup.

Pepper pursed her lips into a thin line as she observed what had become of Tony’s signature costume.

“Don’t worry about it babe. It’s not like I need it anymore.” He tried to laugh. Keyword being tried, and failed. Pepper could hear the strain in his voice, like when he nonchalantly waved off the sudden eviction of Stark Tower along with other status-achieving goods. Trying was all he could do, but it got them nowhere.

 


	4. Hawk Eye, Part I

_Cause I'm sick of being treated like I had before_   
_Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for_   
  
_Like this war's really just a different brand of war_   
_Like it doesn't cater to rich and abandon poor_

 

                Clint Barton stood atop a creaking, wooden bench in the middle of Times Square. The streetlights acted as his spotlight as he cleared his throat, readying himself. He waited patiently for the few passers-by to pause in their tracks and stare curiously, like they had before. This time around, they shot him a weary glance before scuttling away from the scene. It had been four months since Loki took over New York. Now a-days anyone could get in trouble for anything, but that didn’t stop Hawk Eye from stepping on his soap-box every now and then. He would circle his hands around his mouth and shout timeless revolutionary slogans to the citizens. It was all he could do to help them now; teach them how to save themselves. In this totalitarian state, Clint had shed his quiet demeanour in favour of an outspoken one, hoping to spark rebellion within the New Yorkers.

But despite all effort, no one had yet paused or stood and spoke with him. _Their still sleeping,_ Clint thought impatiently. _But one day they’ll have to wake up._ The many members of Loki’s militia lined the square, but tolerated the energized man nonetheless. They were just ordinary people, performing a job they had no choice in. Out of human emotion, they would allow some things to slide. Loki had noticed this soon enough though and replaced a good sum of the mortal guards with savage creatures form other realms.

“Get down from there!” A scaly being in government uniform hissed.

Clint could’ve argued, he could’ve started a physical fight (as his hands were the only weapons he had left), but the rest of the demons started to close in on him too. It wasn’t worth it. Arms up in surrender, Hawk Eye jumped off the make-shift stage and wandered away, back to all his nothingness.


	5. Black Widow, Part I

_Like they understand you in the back of the jet_   
_When you can't put gas in your tank_   
  
_These fuckers are laughing their way to the bank and cashing the cheque_   
_Asking you to have compassion and have some respect_

“Excuse me miss.”

Natasha Romanov bolted awake from sleeping in the front seat of her car. She readied herself into an attack position, but released it upon seeing the face of the friendly lot keeper and rolled down the window. Natasha became uneasy at the old man’s hard expression.

“You need to leave, now.” He commanded shakily, pointing his chin to the ominous queue of other-worldly vehicles heading towards their area.

“Come in,” she invited. The stranger had shown her an incredible amount of compassion to the homeless woman. The least she could do was help him escape the militia’s wrath. The keeper shook his head sadly, “I can’t.”

Natasha frowned deeply and went against every shout of her morale by leaving the old man in his place. It had been five months since Loki took over New York. Pressure was building fast on the dictator to release himself from the planet, not only from the State’s and Earth’s united forces, but from Asgard’s  as well. It caused him, the placid person that he was to act upon a triggered retaliation and conduct weekly executions of the innocent citizens. They were hosted atop high peaks, such as the parking lot space Black Widow had called home for the last little while.

Calmly rolling down the opposite trail of the peak, Natasha couldn’t help but get side-tracked by the procession of people lined at the edge of the cliff, where her car had stood moments ago. Loki definitely wasn’t picky about his victims; elders struggled past the mounted boulders alongside mothers and fathers clutching on to their confused children. The monstrous soldiers aimed their long guns at the line up. The woman came to a complete stop as she sadly watched a little boy jump for joy upon recognizing that the soldiers owned his favourite type of toy. They shot him first, and his body tumbled off the cliff. Lifelessly somersaulting down into the green of the surrounding forest, the boy finally landed on top of Natasha’s windshield, creating web-like cracks before gravity pulled it to the leafy floor.

Heart pounding, the woman stayed at a halt for a moment to recollect herself from the panic and tried to remember if there were any other paths to drive on. There weren’t, unless she wanted to be seen by the soldiers. Her knuckles turned white as she tightly gripped the steering wheel and let go of the brake pedal. Natasha winced and clamped her eyes shut as she heard the sickening crunch of the boy’s bones rupturing under the tires.

 


	6. Loki, Part I

_For a leader so nervous in an obvious way_   
_Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay_   
  
_And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day_   
_In their living room laughing like "What did he say?"_

“Cut.” A voice announced over top of Loki’s droning speech.

“I’m not finished yet.” The dictator growled, and aimed the horns of his crown to the one-eyed man behind the recording camera.

“Yes you are.” Nick Fury simply stated while dismantling the machine. “You went over the fifteen minute mark, we’re done.”

It had been six months since Loki took over New York. With his reign holding for this long, he couldn’t feel more invincible. The people of the city relied so heavily on their little assembly of heroes; so their hope was easy to crush when the pale man threatened the planet’s entire existence, if the Avengers tried even the slightest trick on him, and they obeyed without question. But he had to admit, that without their actions, being king was starting to become boring. Loki’s days as of late were filled with ignoring the calls and pleas of the desperate outside forces. Besides that, he filled his spare time by toying with the New Yorkers. He lowered their standards of living and hiked the prices to necessities to a stupid high. He unleashed eternal cold and un-curable viruses at the population. Still, they did nothing to retaliate and it frustrated the dictator to see them accept it. Loki managed to find greater fun with the armies that tried tremendously to end his rule. With just a snap of his fingers, all the carefully planned battalions shattered at his feet instantly.

The tyrant amused himself the most by ordering dramatic executions of random people, and watched it all unfold like the plot of a captivating film. Speaking of film, another hobby Loki seemed to come upon in the constant pockets of blandness was acting. Since shutting down any options of entertainment the population had access to before; the pale man took over the air waves and broadcasted weekly newscasts. But you could hardly call it news, the fifteen minute long show would spring up on to shut TVs at any given time and solely consist of the dictator threatening and degrading the already enslaved people.

“Remember now dear citizens,” Loki would begin his finishing statement. “There is nothing to fear, except for me.”

 


	7. Thor, Part I

_Amen_   
_Amen_   
_Amen_   
_Amen_   
_Amen_

Thor looked toward Jane with an inquisitive stare. She had awoken before him and now sat at the tiny kitchen table of the RV, a meager plate of breakfast placed before her. But Jane had not yet touched the food or the utensils beside it. Instead her palms were pressed together, and she softly rambled words to the air that were foreign to the Asgardian’s ears.

“What does that word mean?”

Jane turned and smiled to Thor, who stood behind her. “What word?”

“The one at the end.”

“Oh, amen? It’s basically a word to signal the end of a prayer in the Abrahamic religions.” She replied, giving him the textbook answer.

“But what does it mean?”

Jane directed her gaze at one of the windows and became dazed at the sheets of snow that spilled from above. “It means, so be it.”

With the seventh month anniversary of Loki’s taking of New York, dawning upon them, the couple had had too many occasions where the only thing they could say was ‘so be it’. When the brunette drove all the way from New Mexico to the ‘Big Apple’ after seeing Thor’s image on TV, the borders proceeded to permanently shut down due to the younger brother’s rising dominance. So be it. When S.H.I.E.L.D was forced to dismantle and the Avengers had to go their separate ways, so be it. When Thor had to face the facts that there was no way to contact Asgard without Loki knowing about it, and punishing him for the act, so be it.

Jane and Thor just had to put up with the only life they were given, just like everyone else. But it wasn’t all that bad; at least they had each other to get through these unrelenting tough times. Despite the scientist’s efforts of emotional support, the tear in the blond haired man’s stability could not be healed. Not only did Thor miss his homeland incredibly, but it also seemed that Loki’s escaped conscience had found its way to the elder brother. The weight of the dictator’s wrongs latched on fiercely. It caused Thor to want to stay pent up inside the suffocating vehicle.

“Come to the store with me,” Jane urged when she finished her meal and tugged on his shirt sleeve.

“You go ahead.” Thor insisted. “I don’t think it is a good idea for me to go out just yet.”

“Well when will it be a good time?”

“One day, maybe.”


	8. Spider-Man

_In my living room watching but I am not laughing_   
_Cause when it gets tense I know what might happen_   
  
_World is cold the bold men take action_   
_Have to react or get blown into fractions_

Peter Parker stared at the rough, popcorn ceiling of the living room. It was past midnight and he found himself restless once again. He and his aunt tried everything they could to make sleep bearable, and all remedies had failed. But Peter knew, he had always known what his cure was: going outside. It had been eight months since Loki took over New York, which meant that Spider-Man had been under house arrest for two. The young S.H.I.E.L.D agent was a stubborn boy; as he and the other members became denounced, Peter just couldn’t bear to hang his costume up for good just yet. There was so much work to do, especially after the installation of the totalitarian government. So sometimes the boy would don his blue and red outfit and spring into action after the unfairly early curfew. After a couple of successful attempts, Peter was finally caught by the militia and sentenced to house arrest with no sign of a deadline. His punishment was very lenient, considering people younger than himself got executed for much less. The teen couldn’t figure out why though, why Loki had spared him out of all people. Maybe it was to see the boy’s valiant light breakdown, and hope that the others were following suit.

Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really mattered anymore. He just needed out of this prison, now. Rising from the old sofa, Peter crept up the stairs and went into his room. He reached into the back of his closet and grabbed the awaiting suit. Staring at his reflection in a long mirror, the boy secured the mask over his head and finally began to feel like his old self. He looked out of the window and dismayingly saw Loki’s soldiers still erect as ever, circling the ground around his house. Peter carefully tip-toed to the triangular roof and crouched, poised to release his webs to any sturdy structure that would take him away. He then decided to first roof-hop the steady line of houses, until he was far enough to safely swing without notice. Peter thanked his luck that he was so light on his feet, and that the humanoid guards didn’t see a thing out of place.

He searched for a bit, then found an opportune moment. Peter positioned his fingers so that the lines of webs sprang out. He attached the ropes to the first street-lamp of a neat queue. It was silent out, of course it was, curfew was hours ago. It fared alright though as the serene helped the boy balance his stressed mind as he swung through the cool atmosphere. Everything was going so well, until one of the webs failed to cling on to a frostbitten pole. Spider-Man fell to the slippery ground with a sickening thud. Not even the slightest cry had uttered past his lips, but somehow the patrol soldiers found him.

“Help, help me.” Peter barely whispered to the encircling monsters. He reached his arms as far as he could, which was a pathetic length. The teen broke into a cold sweat as the pain of the shattered bones in his back ensued. He didn’t expect the soldiers to be of much help, but he was to say the least, unpleasantly surprised when one of them brandished a handgun, and aimed at the boy’s chest.

“No, no!” Peter tried to scream.

“Fine. The quicker the better anyways.” The hooded minion shrugged in the most emotionless tone, then directed the bullet’s exit to Peter’s forehead. Spider-Man gave up on his pleas and breathed in last bits of oxygen as frightened tears blotted the fabric of his mask. “Any last words?”

“Don’t you dare touch her.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

And with that, the mighty bang of the weapon being triggered, sounded as a reminder of a curfew breaker’s punishment. In that  fleeting moment, Peter thought he saw the inevitable flash of Gwen Stacy’s bright blond hair through the mesh over his eyes.


	9. Black Widow, Part II

_Ten years old it's something to see_   
_Another kid my age drugged under a jeep_   
  
_Taken and bound and found later under a tree_   
_I wonder if he had thought the next one could be me_

Natasha steered her bulky car through the crammed streets as carefully as possible. Her anxiousness rose uncomfortably as she still couldn’t find a place to park for the night. She was exhausted beyond belief and her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier with each centimetre she drove. Hunched over the wheel, she closed her eyes for the barest of seconds, before forcing her brain to reality again. Observing her surroundings, Natasha thought it to be wise to just park in the middle of the empty road. The cars along the sidewalk left zero spots for her, and the militia would surely pursue her if she kept searching for a proper place. While parking, Black Widow barely glanced to her side when she noticed a red and blue swathed foot, outlined by the outside lights.

Natasha’s heart jumped mournfully as she bolted out of the vehicle.

“Please God, please,” she prayed as she neared the ever-still body. “Peter?” She gasped upon taking sight of the fallen Spider-Man.

The woman kneeled next to the boy and removed the mask. She took his bloody face in her hands and manually closed his dead eyes. Natasha cradled Peter’s frail body in her shaking arms and sobbed madly into his hair. She cried like she never had before, wishing that her tears could heal the hole, piece back the shredded remains of his brain, and glue his gravelly bones together.

The two had never worked with each other or talked much. They were courteous to one another, and smiled when they passed in the hallways of Stark Tower and the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, but that about summed up their relationship. Natasha knew how selfish it was to mourn the loss of an insignificant co-worker. But now Peter Parker had become an automatic martyr, a reason for the vengeance the dormant population forgot they needed to take.

 _“Vy monstr, on byl prosto mal’chik!”_ The woman screamed at the top of her lungs, breaking through the deafening cold. “You monster, he was just a boy! _On byl prosto mal’chik!_ ”

Black Widow continued to wail, whilst rocking the boy’s body gently in her lap. God he was so light, too light. The woman didn’t have a care left; if the militia was coming for her, let them come. Let the monsters take her away so she could at last be at peace, with Peter.


	10. Captain America, Part II

_Do you see the soldiers they're out today_

_They brush the dust from bullet proof vests away_

_It's ironic at times like this you pray_

_But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday_

The captain settled himself on top of the dirty, crumbling floor of a small, abandoned business. He was alone, save for the hoard of rats he shared the space with. Steve didn’t mind it though; at least they didn’t stare at him with disgust and disappointment like every human he passed by did. The man fixed his plush jacket to use it as a makeshift blanket, and lay on a mattress of dusty newspapers. He was in the process of shifting to a comfortable position, when he heard screams and shouts coming from not too far outside. Out of habit, Steve reached for his prized shield that was no longer in company. Upon grasping the thin air, he sighed sadly but nonetheless made his way to the overseeing window with some amount of gusto. Across the desolated road, Natasha sat on the ground with a familiar suited body in her lap. Steve shouted her name and stormed out of the structure.

“Natasha!” He yelled and approached the crying woman.

“Steve,” she groaned tiredly. He almost jumped back when their eyes met; he had never seen Black Widow look so dishevelled.

“Come on,” he said, motioned as the wail of the militia’s vehicles sounded not too far away. “We have to go.”

“We have to take Peter with us.” Natasha pleaded.

“That’s not possible, we’re running out of time!” 

The sirens were getting dangerously close. The woman took in one last gaze at Spider-Man’s identity, hugged him tight, then abandoned the body altogether. The pair sprinted a short distance into the street, where Natasha’s car rested, and dove inside. Numerous torches belonging to Loki’s minions, shone through the semi-tinted windows. But all the suspecting eyes saw were anonymous sleeping citizens in the front seats. When the glow completely faded, Steve cautiously waited a few moments before turning to Natasha.

“What do we do now?” His voice was distant and lost.

“Let’s go home.” She replied steadily.

A corner of Steve’s mouth inched upward and he grabbed a hold of the steering wheel. His confident aura shined so bright in the woman’s presence. “Next stop, Stark Tower.”


	11. Hawk Eye, Part II

_There's bombs in the buses, bikes, roads_

_Inside your market, your shops, your clothes_

_My dad he's got a lot of fear I know_

_But enough pride inside not to let that show_

Clint huddled deeper into the layers of sweaters as the air’s temperature continued its’ downward spiral. He peered at his numbing fingers; a blue shade was spreading over them. _What a way to go_ , Hawk Eye thought somberly to himself. Without any proper shelter or nutrition, the man was slowly fading away. It saddened him; not the thought of his own death, but the fact that he would never see his friends again. This time it was for certain. Hawk Eye remembered the disgustingly unsentimental farewells they blurted out as they each rounded different corners. They mostly consisted of ‘see you around’ or something of the like, but they never did.

Suddenly, the slam of car doors snapped Clint out of his depression and readied to flee the militia again. He looked over the edge of the roof and his heart leapt upon seeing two, much missed forms. Natasha and Steve hurried into the no longer secured, metal tower and rushed up a lengthy staircase as Clint made his way down. He grinned wildly, hardly able to contain his excitement when he met his friends’ faces. The dying man had forgotten about the painful stabs in his exhausted nerves, and tripped over the cement steps during his hurried actions. Natasha and Steve thankfully caught hold of their teammate before he could land uncomfortably. After a short warm reunion, the trio continued their way to the top of the building. They planted themselves on the flat roof, staring into the distance at Loki’s hovering mother-ship, over the nearby coast.

“What do we do now?” The Captain questioned again.

“I don’t know. I was thinking that maybe we could just sit here for a bit. What do you think Clint?” Natasha drawled as if hypnotized by the atmosphere.

“Sounds good to me.” Hawk Eye muttered weakly and the threesome sat together in the dark tranquility. 

Soon enough, lights shone violently towards the building. Militia flying machines paddled the air towards them.

“Evacuate the area, that’s an order by the supreme leader!” A soldier demanded over a loud speaker. 

The men looked to Black Widow to answer. “No.” She confirmed.

With that, the announcer switched to a private radio that contacted Loki. “Sir, they refuse to budge. Should we shoot?”

“Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave them alone and come back to base.”

“But sir-“

“This is the most interesting thing that has happened in months. Do not spoil my fun.”

Reluctantly, the soldier signalled the rest of his crew away from the tower, leaving the three avengers confused but unfazed. Soon after, a bright, white beam sprang from the ground and spotlighted harshly on their bodies. They squinted below to see a government van and a dozen minions, closing in around what seemed to be a giant lens.


	12. Iron Man, Part II

_My brother had a book he would hold with pride_

_A little red cover with a broken spine_

_On the back he hand-wrote a quote inside,_

_"When the rich wage war it's the poor who die."_

“Stark!” A voice rang through the hot steam of Tony’s workplace: a busy boiler room. The man turned around to his co-worker and paused his shovelling of coal into the mighty heater. 

“What’s up?”

“It’s Pepper.”

Tony burst into the staff locker room and saw Pepper sitting on a bench, where their belongings hung above. She had a portable version of the breathing apparatus over her face, and was trying to regulate her oxygen intake.

“Were you busy?” She asked with weary concern lacing through her voice.

“Not at all.” Iron Man reassured, and dug into his pack to produce a silver flask and spoon. He poured a large helping off orange medicine into the shallow dish and handed it to the woman. 

She removed the mask, then hesitantly placed the spoon into her mouth. 

“All of it babe, all of it.” Tony urged as Pepper started gagging on the foul taste.

“It’s done,” she finally gasped and the pair rose tiredly from their seats. They exited the room to see the hallways and work areas strangely bare. A wave of loud chatter coming from the small break room suddenly echoed through the factory. The couple crammed their way through the dazed crowd that stared at the mounted screens. It was another news broadcast, but Loki was missing from it. The camera stayed glued to the three people on top of Stark Tower.

“Oh my God,” Pepper gasped. “We need to go.”

Tony very much agreed. They dove back through the people and headed for the factory doors.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A clawed guard hissed.

The couple deliberately ignored the monster, and pushed past him. With that, the soldier grabbed Tony, fixed his claw into a fist and punched the circular glow in Iron Man’s chest. The glass cracked, the light was extinguished, and Tony collapsed to the floor upon the impact. Pepper automatically toppled protectively over him.

“Move it!” The creature ordered.

“If you want him, you’ll have to go through me.” She coughed.

“Not a problem.” The guard said, and aimed his shining weapon at Pepper.

“Hey!” A voice behind them called. The employees had grouped behind the scene, raising makeshift weapons, just as the soldiers did with their highly professional ones.

“If you wanna fuck with Iron Man, then come here and fuck with us first.” The decreeing person contacted the sickly woman’s face. Her expression encouraged the couple to leave and never come back. Obeying the offer, Pepper helped Tony up, and hobbled out as chaos ensued between the workers and Loki’s minions.


	13. Loki, Part II

_Meanwhile, the leader just talks away_

_Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay_

_And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day_

_Both scared and angry like "What did he say?"_

“What have you done?” Nick said in awe at the large screen that showed the few members of the Avengers, positioned on the tower.

“You sound exactly like Odin,” Loki snarled.

He too faced his gaze to the wide looking glass. Black Widow, Captain America, Hawk Eye, Iron Man, and Pepper sat on the flat roof. The lot stared into the camera like they knew the dictator was on the other side. Loki hated that even though their bodies were so impoverished and pathetic, the group still managed to intimidate him.

“Speaking of Odin,” the one-eyed man began. “There’s a call coming in from him.”

“Bring it up.” Loki sighed. The screen turned its picture to a close up of the all-father’s disapproving glare.

“Loki Laufeyson, this is your last warning to leave this realm unharmed. Else you will face the wrath of the Asgardian forces.”

“Alright.” The dictator shrugged and vacated the throne he was assumed to be emotionally attached to. Nick turned suspiciously to the pale man. It just couldn’t be that easy for him to let up all that power.

“Don’t play games with me.” Odin said in a hard tone, thinking the very same as Fury.

“I’m not.” Loki stated innocently while he approached the last-standing servant. He recovered a shining gun from underneath his cloak, and shot Nick in the leg with electric bolts. “I find myself becoming increasingly bored with this idiotic population.” 

He hovered over the wounded man, and aimed the weapon to his temple. “Fine, I’ll leave. Under one circumstance though. I wish to leave this realm, the way I want to, with no interferences from anyone.”

“Agreed.” The all-father reluctantly affirmed. He had a horrible feeling to what would be in store, and also laid down a condition. “But if I am to allow your plan, you must return Thor back home.”

“Perfect.” The dictator smiled and finalized the deal with a bullet through Fury’s head.


	14. Thor, Part II

_Amen_

_Amen_

_Amen_

_Amen_

_Amen_

After cleaning the dinner dishes, Thor went to the bedroom at the back of the RV to go to sleep.

“Are you serious right now?” Jane called after him. Thor turned to her and saw the brunette bundled in outside gear. 

“What do you mean?” He asked perplexed.

“You don’t want to go to Stark Tower? Everybody’s there except for you, and Bruce, but he’s probably on his way.”

Thor lowered his gaze in guilt and Jane approached him to lift it. “Steve, Natasha, Clint, Tony, Pepper; they’ve been outside for a whole twenty-four hours. I know times like this are so uncertain, but I also know that they are waiting for you. Don’t make them wait any longer.” She whispered against his ear and stroked the spots along his shoulders where rocks and other hard objects had pelted him, the last time he dared to step outside.

“They need you.” Jane nodded to the building’s direction.

“They need us.” Thor affirmed with a meek smile. 

The pair exited their mobile home. Upon setting themselves on to the snowy ground, they turned to see Loki’s figure planted too close for comfort. The pale man extended his hand, which held the blond-haired brother’s weapon.

“You’re sorely missed in Asgard.”

“Good. I don’t think Stark can last another minute in this wasteland.”

Loki shook his head. “He wants you, just you.” The tone of apology slightly surfaced.

“Then I will stay.” Thor settled definitely, and hugged Jane closer. 

The younger brother pierced his eyes to his brother’s for quite a while. “So be it. But mark my words, there will be no rescue party coming in the brink of time. Hope will do you no favour; you will suffer the consequences with the rest.”

In reply, Thor and Jane walked away in the opposite direction as Loki was beamed back to his soaring ship.


	15. Hulk, Part II

                Bruce walked down the vacant sidewalks. He kept peering down at his watch; it now read nine thirty in the morning, but the sky remained an eerie dark blue. He breathed in sharply and stopped in his tracks, as he stepped on a frozen puddle of liquid that could be nothing else but blood. The sight was most unwelcoming to the man’s strained heart. Despite every citizen knowing very well about the government’s brutality, the streets had never held a trace of blood-shed. 

Bruce became unnerved at thinking about which innocent person he failed to protect this time. The un-greening man slammed his fist into a light pole. The whole row of lamps shut off upon the impact. Since the beginning of the broadcast from Stark Tower, the former Hulk had ditched his anger-controlling medications in an act of retaliation, to ready himself for today’s journey, but regretted it instantly. 

There was no way he could join his team as this mad mess. The man slumped to the ground and wrapped his arms around the bent spire tightly, to regain his composure.

“ _With hands held high into a sky so blue,”_ Bruce sang to himself. “ _As the ocean opens up to swallow you.”_

He repeated the remedial rhyme while trying to imagine his body enveloped in a calming wave of water; encased in a liquid that was not hot and not cold; where he was comfortably suspended between floating and sinking. The man relaxed his pressure-shut eyelids and slid back to his feet. He used the tall stalk to support his stance, then shuffled his tired way to the long-missed headquarters; singing to the air around him.

“ _With hands held high into a sky so blue, as the ocean opens up to swallow you._ ”


	16. The Avengers

                The wind bit at the exposed skins of the ragtag heroes, but their assembly remained unflinching. As each pair or individual neared the tower, the also remaining soldiers would let them through, weirdly without question or threat. The teammates had said not a word to each other upon their re-grouping. All the conversation they needed was in the head tilts of recognition.

“They’re leaving.” Steve announced, breaking the silence. He was glancing below the roof and saw militia members packing up the equipment and cameras, then ominously head off in the same direction. “Where do you think they’re going?”

“Back to Loki’s ship. They are evacuating earth.” Thor knowingly responded.

The rest of the crew stretched their lips into a sort of triumphant smile at the news. But the bearded man’s expression signalled otherwise. 

“It is certain that all will not be as well as you hope. I am sorry, I’ve failed you all.”

Tony placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

The crowd nodded sincerely in agreement. The friendly moment vanished soon after, as the buzz of the dictator’s space vessel sounded through the wind. It rose to a large height above the city as did a controlled, giant collection of dark water from the coast. It shadowed over the land and eventually, blocked the light of the moon.

“ _With hands held high into a sky so blue, as the ocean opens up to swallow you.”_ Bruce said out loud. The Avengers looked to him curiously while he stood tall along the edge of the building; staring fearlessly into the liquid mass.

 _“With hands held high into a sky so blue, as the ocean opens up to swallow you._ ” Natasha followed suit, and laid a hand in Bruce’s. 

One by one: Steve, Tony, Pepper, Thor, Jane, and Clint created a chain and sang along. “ _With hands held high into a sky so blue, as the ocean opens up to swallow you.”_

The wave inched closer and closer, swallowing up every unsuspecting person and structure in its path. Despite the ongoing destruction, the atmosphere held no tension or cold, pain or fear. And as the Avengers stood unwavering in a straight queue, a very calm feeling of a long-awaited thaw came about them. They hoped the rest of the population felt just as peaceful as they did. The lion-hearted citizens deserved it more than the heroes.

“ _With hands held high into a sky so blue, as the ocean opens up to swallow you.”_ They chorused into the air.

The gaping wave encircled all sides of the tower, and rose fast to their level. Thor tightened his grip on Jane’s hand; he swore he could see Asgard through the translucent deathbed. It was so beautiful.

“ _With hands held high, into a sky so blue as the ocean opens up to swallow you._ ”


End file.
